by Wendy Bayne
“I’ll tell her, Da.” I could hear her almost running out of the kitchen.
Then the door shook as if someone had leaned against it. “You better not be getting my girl into trouble, missy. I’m not doing this because I want to, but I mean to get me and mine outta ’ere alive.” I hesitated as to whether I should answer or not and decided that not answering would be in my and Angel’s best interest. “She’s a good girl, my Angel, so you just stay asleep, missy, it’s the best thing for you. I’ll do what I can to keep them from hurting you. But I have my family to look out for too.” He coughed and clumped away then I heard a door close. The candle was sputtering now so I blew it out and lay down to wait. Several days went by. I was left in the pantry and only allowed out for meals which I took with Angel. I asked about guards but all she would do was nod and look at the door that I had come through when I arrived and the other door leading to the outside. I pointed to the one remaining door, but she shook her head no when I moved to get up she clenched my hand. “No, miss, that leads to the laundry and other stores rooms, there ain’t even a window let alone a door to the outside.”
A fat ugly man who smelled of gin and manure came into the room glaring at Angel “Ere, who you are talking to?”
Angel’s eyes got big and she swallowed before answering, “Just the lady. I told her there were guards all around and that ter ain’t no way out.”
He came over leaned across the table leering at me. “That’s right, missy, you ain’t going nowhere but where the cap’n wants. And if you try well you’d not want to find out what some of us would do to a fresh chit like you before we slit yer throat.” His breath reeked, and I couldn’t help but pull back which he assumed was from fear and not revulsion. He pulled me up by the arm and returned me to the pantry, locking the door behind me and I heard Angel scurrying away before he had the door closed.
And so, I waited.
Chapter 17
Fight or Flight
When the door opened again the light spilled across the floor, momentarily blinding me. I looked around and guessed that by the amount of light spilling through the doorway that it must be at least mid-day. Then I heard Angel’s subdued voice. “Excuse me, miss, but the cap’n wants to see yer.”
I untangled myself from the blanket then stood up, smoothing down my skirts. I swiped my hands through my hair and took a step forward when my upper arm was grabbed firmly by her father. He started to pull me towards the door leading to the front of the house and I looked back over my shoulder willing Angel to look up, but she refused to make eye contact with me. He closed the kitchen door behind us then loosened his grip and pulled me around to face him, “Here now, listen to me, missy, you hold your tongue in there, you hear.” He pointed towards a set of double doors. “Both gents in there have been drinking an arguing a lot. So, watch your mouth.” I was astounded to get any useful advice from this man who I had considered no better than a thug. “I’ll try to see that you don’t get hurt but I can’t promise you nuffink if you rile them.” He glared at me but despite his disreputable appearance, there was intelligence and perhaps a gentleness in this man that I would have denied existed in him before. I nodded as he grasped my arm lightly and led me forward.
I decided to at least try to appear a mild-mannered young lady, so I didn’t resist as I he led me across the hallway to enter what must have once been a fine drawing room. It was a distinct contrast to the kitchen that was worn but homey and clean. Here was a mixture of decay and luxury. The walls were dingy, and dirt-smeared where the paint and paper were peeling. The windows were covered by rotting velvet curtains but the furniture while sparse and old was tasteful and immaculately clean. Mr Richards sat on a settee with his leg propped up. It was clear that he had a fever, his eyes glistened and tiny rivulets of sweat snaked down his face and neck. His lips were dry and cracked and his hand shook as he drank from a glass full of an amber-coloured liquid. He stared at me with obvious distaste; possibly because I was the reason that he was ill now.
The second man in the room had icy blue eyes that looked right through me. He looked me up and down then turned his attention to Richards. “So this is the chit you risked my men and your life for? She hardly looks to be worth the bother. But I suppose her father will think differently. Too bad we didn’t have the pair of them; but I think it was best to take just the girl. You might have lost your life otherwise, Richards.” He chuckled. “It’s bad enough that you still have that ball in your leg.”
Richards held out his glass to Angel’s father who obediently refilled it. Richards took a gulp and glared at the other man. “Where is that damn doctor? You sent for him, didn’t you, or was that lie too?” He coughed then snarled as he looked at my jailor. “Dawson, you prick. you had better not have messed this up! Where the hell are your son and that whore?” Dawson left the room at a signal from the second man.
The man with the blue eyes chuckled and responded, “Now, now, my friend, they’ll be here shortly I’m sure. Dawson only just got back himself and ladies can’t be rushed.” With that there was a knock on the door and Dr Jefferson was shown in by Dawson. “See, I told you they’d not be more than minute or two behind.” The doctor glanced at me, grimaced then scanned the room. The man with the blue eyes who I assumed was Browne was being loquacious when he addressed him, “I’m so glad you could join us, doctor!” he waved him towards Richards. “There is your long-suffering patient. But before you attend to him, please tell me it wasn’t you that shot Richards? I imagine he’d want his revenge if it was and that wouldn’t do at all, you’re too valuable an asset to lose.”
I was in shock! Was the doctor in league with Richards and this man? How could he have deceived us? I was usually able to tell when someone is a fake, but the doctor had always seemed so genuine and kind! I would never have thought that he had any evil in him. He ignored Browne and pulled back the lap rug and dressing gown hiding Richard’s leg, then he removed the bandages and lint. He was positioned in such a way that I couldn’t see the leg, but I saw his shoulders tense as he made his examination. Behind me I heard a scuffle in the hallway and a woman’s scream cut short. Dr Jefferson spun on his heels and looked at the other man. “If you hurt her, Browne, I’ll make you pay.” Then it dawned on me that the doctor was here under duress.
“Hurt Louisa, why should I ever do that? She has been most useful to me. But I must admit that I’m surprised that she is still naive enough to believe that I saved her from the French by sending her away with Turner.” He giggled like a mad man, adding, “I never dreamed that she would think she still owed me a debt when I sent her the note that I was ill and needed her to bring a doctor to me. But it was worth the try and safer than bringing in the local man. Are you sure, Jefferson, that you want to court such a gullible bit of fluff?” He made an unpleasant chuckling sound in his throat. Then he drank off what was in his glass and filled it again. “Oh, by the by I do hope that your journey wasn’t too uncomfortable.”
The doctor ignored him and bent to open his bag. “I’ll need hot water, clean bandages and Miss Turner to help me.”
Mr Browne banged his foot on the floor and the door opened behind me. He gave the orders for water and bandages. I had not been told that I could sit and since he continued to ignore me I waited.
There was a brief knock at the door and Angel came in with everything the doctor had asked for. She turned to leave but Mr Browne reached to block her, “Where do you think you’re going, girl, the doctor needs your assistance.” She turned around keeping her eyes down and walked back to the doctor then knelt at his side. She scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes.
Dr Jefferson said firmly, “I asked for Miss Turner’s help.”
Browne turned red and slammed down his glass, he obviously did not like his decisions being questioned and he gave way to his temper as his voice rose, “I heard you, doctor! But you will make do with what I GIVE YOU!”
The doctor huffed looking down at Angel. “What’s yo
ur name, child?”
She opened her eyes looking up at him, “Angel, sir.”
Richards had obviously had enough. “Shut it, both of you! This isn’t a ruddy tea party, get on with it! Get the DAMN ball out of my leg NOW!” He was extremely pale and perspiring freely, I could even hear his raspy breathing across the room.
Dr Jefferson poured some of the water into a basin then he took a sliver of soap from his bag and started washing his hands slowly, slower than I had ever seen him do so before. He glanced at me once then at the window behind Richards’ head. Mr Browne was examining his fingernails and hadn’t noticed. Richards did though. “What the hell are you looking at?” He tried to look over his shoulder but gasped as he moved his leg. Then he screamed, “DAWSON! Get the hell in here!” My jailor appeared and looked down at Angel, worry clearly etched on his face. “Get outside and check the grounds!”
Dawson moved towards the door then hesitated, “I just came in from outside, sir, there weren’t nothing nor nobody out there.”
With a wave of his hand Browne interjected in his laconic manner, “Get out and look harder this time.”
Dawson still didn’t move as he looked at the window with fear in his eyes. I had a clear view but couldn’t see a thing. Richards rose up on his elbows and yelled, “GO!”
Browne laughed, drained his glass and filled it again from the decanter on the table beside him. Then he turned in his chair to look at me. “Well, Miss Turner, what am I to do with you?” He looked at me through the liquid in the glass and smiled. “You are his daughter without a doubt. You know I’d always thought that your father and uncle might be lovers. Imagine my amazement when I found out that one of them was actually married and the other was in love with a French whore.” He smiled unpleasantly when I tried not to grimace. “I was a good friend of your father’s in France, did he ever tell you?” Browne chuckled almost spilling his drink but catching it before it overflowed the rim of the glass. “No, I don’t suppose he would. Oh, wait I’m sorry…I’m thinking of the wrong father. I should have said your grandfather. It was your grandfather’s idea to use Louisa to get information from the Spaniards because he had scruples about spying on the English allies himself. I, however, did not, money is after all money no matter who pays. But that’s beside the point. Your grandfather had enormous gambling debts that he owed to people on the wrong side of the war. He really was terrible at cards.” Browne waved his glass around miraculously not spilling a drop. “You see during the lulls in the action the senior officers of both sides would often meet on neutral ground for an evening’s pleasure. Back then the only thing of value was gold or information and he didn’t have any gold.” He paused and waited for me to comment. I chose not to say a word. “You don’t seem surprised or impressed by his treason, Miss Turner?”
He paused, and I noticed that his facial expression while talking had never changed then suddenly without warning he threw his glass at the wall behind me and screamed, “ANSWER ME!”
I looked at the doctor and swallowed, he had turned to look first at me then Mr Browne and back again and he nodded his encouragement to me before he returned his attention back to Richards. Could I trust him? Just then he dug into Richard’s leg. Richards screamed so loud we all jumped. Browne started to laugh and got up out of his chair. He came towards me, grabbing me by the hair at the back of my head and leaned in close, his alcohol saturated breath was nauseating as he growled, “I said, answer me.” When I didn’t respond right away he slapped me across the face hard enough that everything blurred for a moment.
Tears of pain slid down my cheeks as I sucked in a breath and answered him, “The General was my grandfather in name only. He can burn in hell for all I care.”
He reared back letting go of my hair and laughed like a maniac. “Good lord, you have spirit, girl, I like that.” Then he leaned down pulling a knife from his boot and lurching forward, he grabbed me again, swinging me around and pulling my back to him as he placed the knife to my throat. “Doctor, are you done yet?”
Dr Jefferson was just applying the final dressing when he looked up. “Let her go! Are you insane?!”
He pulled my head back and pressed harder so that the knife was biting into my neck. He leered into my face saying, “I just need to know if my associate is fit to travel. There’s a ship waiting for us in Poole, but I need him to be able to ride.”
Richards answered him, “Get me up on the damn horse and I’ll ride, you bloody bastard. Remember those are my people waiting and it’s me that they’re expecting, not you.”
Browne smiled at him tipping his head to the side like a bird of prey, sizing up a kill; it was very eerie. Dr Jefferson stood up pulling Angel to his side and stepped away from Richards. Richards seemed to recognize the look and pulled a pistol out from beside him. “You think I don’t know what you’re thinking, Browne? I’m surprised you haven’t tried to kill me before now.” He glared at Browne but didn’t raise the pistol, he was probably too weak to lift it let alone hold it.
Browne pulled me closer to him as a shield then sneered, “Oh, I’ve thought about it many times, my friend. You bungled getting Hughes in the park, so you should consider yourself lucky that I let you live this long. You botched that job, so it was up to me to silence the old man. I don’t forgive things lightly, you should know that by now.” He pulled my head back and looked at me, “I was astounded that the General suddenly grew a conscious when he figured out that we tried to kill his heir.” He chuckled. “I’m even more surprised that he thought he could turn us over to Spencer and not have his own hands sullied. I was very disappointed in his lack of trust.” He let go of my head while chuckling, but the knife was still pressed to my throat. “The cargo from France lands tonight and I’ll be on that ship when it leaves with the tide, with or without you Richards.”
Richards scowled. “That may be your ship, Browne, but the crew are my men. You won’t be going anywhere without me.” It was like the two of them had forgotten that anyone else was in the room.
Browne’s grip remained firm, I could still feel the edge of the knife at my throat and his hot fetid breath on my neck. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to address that issue.” Suddenly he let go and flung the knife with uncanny precision, it buried itself deep in Richards’ chest. Richards made a feeble attempt to raise the pistol, but the light went out of his eyes before he could fire, and it fell to the floor. Browne grabbed me again holding me tightly around the throat as he called out “Angel, my sweet.” Angel’s eyes were huge, her lower lip trembled as she stared at Richards. Then Browne yelled “ANGEL!” His screamed deafened me as I watched the girl snap her eyes up to him. “That’s better. Now bring me the pistol.” She moved forward, shaking terribly, then bent to pick up the pistol but as she picked it up it discharged into the floor and she jumped back dropping it.
Browne sighed then casually said, “You’re a clumsy little thing, aren’t you. Now it’s of no use to anyone. I don’t suppose you know how to load one?” Angel shook her head no as he continued, “No, I didn’t think so. Ah, doctor! Huh, no, I don’t think it would be wise to put that in your hand. Hmmm, what a dilemma!” He looked over my shoulder at me, his face placid. “Well, Miss Turner, perhaps we should leave now. Have you ever been to Paris, my dear?” I didn’t respond but he really didn’t care if I did…he was clearly insane. “Angel, my dear, where is that father of yours? He should have been back by now.” He took a deep breath but never relaxed his grip on me, “Oh, well, you’ll have to do it then. Go and bring my horse around,” Angel hesitated so I braced myself for him to yell again but he just said sweetly, “Go on, girl.” Angel stepped forward then looked back at the doctor who nodded for her to go.
Then Browne’s voice exploded in my ear. “Stop looking at him and GET MY DAMN HORSE!” Dr Jefferson took a step forward as Angel ran past us. But Browne saw him and gripped me tighter by the throat, “Oh no, doctor; stay where you are. I’m quite capable of snapping Miss Turner’s neck before you
could take another step. You just stay where you are.” He moved his arms so one encircled my neck and his other hand rested against the side of my head. He grasped me tightly enough that I had trouble drawing a breath. So, we stood and waited. The doctor kept his eyes on Browne’s hands and on the door behind me. My legs were getting tired, I had been standing for what seemed like hours, but it was nerves that was sapping my strength. Then an idea came to me that if I let my legs go out from under me like I was swooning it might be enough to break his grasp and I could get away. He had no other weapon on his person but there was another pistol on the table by his decanter nearer the doctor than Browne, had the doctor seen it there? Browne seemed to have forgotten about it. Yes, I could do this. I winked at the doctor and he bit his lower lip and I saw from the pleading look in his eyes that he didn’t want me to risk myself. But I never got the chance.
Angel returned, and he pulled me back with him into the hallway. Dawson was nowhere to be seen. The front door stood open to the daylight and I could see a saddled horse standing there. He still held me by the neck, dragging me backwards out the door. We got to the horse and he threw me over the saddle then mounted up behind me. As he took the reins, Mr Johnson sprang out from behind the rubble of the garden wall, grabbing at the horse which had reared up at his approach. With the upward momentum, I slid off the saddle as Browne tried to regain control of the horse. I landed face-first on the drive with the gravel biting into my skin. My shoulder took a painful jolt and I rolled to the side to avoid the horse’s hooves coming down on top of me though one managed to clip my arm. It all happened so quickly that I was unaware I had even been hurt. Then the pain exploded down the length of my arm. The last thing I heard before fainting was a shot being fired from the vicinity of the house and the words, “Bloody Hell.”